Grey Emissary
by RoseGoldExile
Summary: We had both been running from a part of ourselves for years, taking refuge in the violent and chaotic. Derek was a magnet for blood and trouble, but I was a magnet for chaos and destruction. When he looked at me, I saw the power in his eyes and thrill we both tried to fight as we fell. We were King and Queen of disaster. And I loved him.
1. The Pull

**A/N: Don't own the Characters. Braeden/Derek fic. You saw the trailer, let's not pretend. In addition to this, it's going to be my version of Season Four. The characters may be the same and so may some of the situations, but for all sakes and purposes this will be different. This is my second Teen Wolf fanfic, after I kind of lost sight of the second one. If you like it, which I hope you do, let me know and I can continue it. If you don't like it, and I hope you will, well…who knows?**

***Sets GPS for Beacon Hills***

**Chapter One: The Pull**

"Do you try to sneak up on everyone?" Morrell asked.

I shrugged as I came up beside her. "Force of habit."

We were at a dive not too far outside of Beacon Hills. It was still local enough to be considered a part of the city, but far enough for privacy. I was pretty sure that's why she'd picked it, that and she knew I wasn't setting foot back there unless cash was involved. Nothing against the place, but it just rubbed me the wrong way. Not the supernatural aspect of it, just that unless you were central to it you tended to die.

I still liked my life.

Inside was the thing I'd missed the most about California, the food. Come to the less popular parts of the state and you could get a burger that could change your life. I could smell the ground beef cooking on the grill, hear the sound of it sizzling. There were people scattered in various parts, talking to the point of being one loud noise. I could hear an old nineties song, although I couldn't remember what it was. Morrell led us into a booth towards the back, nodding to a woman behind the counter on the way. When we slid into our booth, I smiled.

"What?" She smiled back.

"You did better this time." I replied. "Last time you took me to some upscale bistro place with tiny square plates."

"I was trying to expand your horizons."

"You were trying to make me starve."

Morrell had always been pretty, ever y since I was little. Her even toned honey skin still held the youthful appearance it always had. Here lashes were long and eyebrows arched. She had a knowing look in her dark brown eyes that managed to be both mysterious and amused at the same time. Her hair was perfect and straight, parted down the middle and resting behind her shoulders. The skirt suit she wore was cute but meant business.

She smirked and shook her head. "Always assessing."

"It's how you stay alive, you know that." I smiled.

"Of course." She replied. "And how's that been working out for you?"

"You see where I am." I said, toying with the edge of the menu. "Still kicking."

Our waiter came to the table. "I'm Davis and I'll be your server." He said, beaming to Morrell. "What can I get for…"

His voice trailed off when he got to me.

I was used to it by now, but it never stopped being annoying. They were scars, not wounds. Every since my fight with a very nasty pack of homicidal Alphas in high school locker room, I hadn't been able to get rid of them. My other scars had healed and faded, but I guess I was stuck with these. Some days I wore them like a badge of honor. Other days I didn't feel anything for them one way or the other. .

I tilted my face upward into the light and let Davis get a full glimpse of them. He had gone from shocked curiosity to full on staring, eyes roaming over each one. I flashed a winning smile and winked at him, lacing my fingers together on the table.

"If you stare long enough, they'll tell you how they got there." I said sweetly.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't-"

"Double bacon cheeseburger." I said, picking up the menu and looking over it. "Large fries, diet coke, slice of pie."

"What, um, what kind of pie?" He asked.

"Surprise me." I smiled and handed him the menu.

He wrote down my order and turned to Morrell. "You ma'am?"

She shook her head. "Nothing right now, thank you."

He looked relieved to be leaving our table.

"That was mean." She said.

"He shouldn't stare." I told her as I put a hand on my chest. "I could be sensitive about it."

"Could be?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Oh please." I said. "You know me better than that."

"I do. Speaking of, that was a lot of food you ordered. When was the last time you ate?"

"Is that your way of telling me to cut back?"

"It's my way of asking when's the last time you ate."

I gave her a look. "I eat all the time."

"No." she said. "You travel all the time, you hunt all the time. Eating isn't a high priority of yours."

"It is," I told her. "But I figured since you're paying and all I'd treat myself."

"You sound like Deaton." She smiled.

"He's a smart guy."

"That he is." She said. "They say he's being considered for a leader."

The "they" in question was the Emissary council. It was who they, she and Deaton, worked for in protection and advisory of the wolves. They were the leaders of the bloodlines stemming from the first group of druids who'd helped King Lycaon and his sons after they'd been turned. If they wanted Deaton, that meant he was moving up.

"Serious stuff." I said. "How does he feel about it?"

"Doesn't want to leave home, doesn't think he can. I told him I could handle it if he did need to go but…"

She didn't need to say it, I already knew.

Ever since she'd worked with Deucalion, hardly any of the Emissaries had an easy time trusting her. The code was to protect, serve, and bestow knowledge upon the wolves however necessary. The other part of the code was to die rather than support a corrupt wolf. Since Morrell had played both sides of the fence with good intentions, it didn't bode well in our community.

Well, her community.

I was a part of the Druid bloodline, one that had a slight innate gift for precognition, but it wasn't something I was into. Devoting your life to a pack of unruly creatures sounded like more fun than it actually was. I'd heard of Emissaries who'd been killed their first night out with their alpha mainly because there was so little reasoning with one. Being born in tune with the supernatural wasn't something I could just ignore. Carrying on the family business wasn't something I wanted.

And so here I am.

Ironically enough, I was in pretty high demand. I was nineteen, pretty, had just enough spark to see the supernatural and enough sense not to be completely of it. I was a great in a fight, quick on my feet, and there were few weapons I wasn't good at. I could drive almost anything, would fight damn near everything, and would find, steal, and do whatever else necessary. For a price of course.

But Morrell didn't have that option. She'd been raised to follow the Emissary line through and through. While my parents had been a little more lenient, especially my father, I'd met the elder Morrell's before. They weren't mean or anything, just serious about what was going on. Order was something the supernatural community lacked and it was an Emissary's job to keep the werewolves on the right track and towards fulfilling their destiny.

That was another reason why I ditched the whole Emissary thing. I had my own destiny to worry about.

I waved it off. "Probably for the best anyway. He's always been a little more attached to Beacon Hills since his last pack right?"

She nodded. "Right. And even more so now that Scott McCall is a True Alpha."

"So he did ascend." I nodded. "Not bad."

"It's a little more complicated than that, but yes, he's there."

I was going to regret asking, especially since she'd thrown it out there for me. "Complicated how?"

She smirked and even though it was just the corner of her mouth, it was practically a grin from ear to ear.

"He's an alpha that hasn't tapped into it yet." Said Morrell. "The strength, the speed, the awareness. It's stronger than a Beta but a far cry from where he's supposed to be."

"He has a pack right?" I asked. "That's usually a source of strength."

"He has his friends." Morrell rolled her eyes. "A wise ass, a banshee, a newly acquired kitsune, and his former alpha."

"What happened to the hunter? Argent?" I asked.

"Killed by the Oni." She replied. "Right in front of Scott."

Before I could ask, she beat me to it.

"Isaac Lahey took off shortly thereafter."

I remembered Isaac, my first Californian job. It was the first time Morrell decided to use me, despite what she thought about my occupation. Having her contact me while I was in a cage in Texas on a job was a trip. The money she offered me was even more of one. I remembered ambushing the alphas and carrying a scrawny kid out of an old bank as fast as I could. That night had been wild and terrifying all at the same time.

"Sounds to me like he found a work around." I said. "A pack doesn't necessarily have to be wolves."

"No, but an alpha does necessarily need an Emissary."

Davis came over with my food faster than I thought. He set the plate down in front of me and put the saucer with my pie on it right beside it. He'd chosen cherry. It was a good choice. He put a napkin down and sat my diet coke on it. He smiled at me, facing me with confidence.

"Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"We're good here."

When Davis left, I picked up a fry and went back to Morrell. "I thought Deaton was handling the Emissary thing."

"He advises him, of course, but you know that's not how it works. It's a connection, a bond. If Deaton doesn't feel it, which is what he's told me, then it's not him."

"Okay…" I trailed off. "And what about you?"

"I haven't found my alpha yet and I'm not in a rush to." She replied. "He or she is out there, I can feel them, but I have a lot more to do before I just show up and announce myself."

"Sounds to me like you might be in business with McCall." I said as I picked up my burger and took a bite. I could've cried it was so good.

"He's doesn't trust me that much either. Moral ambiguity isn't a strong point amongst werewolf types."

"Only because no one's figured out that not everything is black and white. Grey areas exist and they're bigger than most people want to believe. I think it's unfair for you to be judged solely on the fact that you weren't squeaky clean with your approach."

"Explain that."

I took another bite of my burger, washed it down, and continued. "Wolves don't do anything squeaky clean. There's blood and conflict and sometimes even war. We've seen that. A wolf's job is to protect, serve, and defend. You did all of those things on a way bigger scale, but just behind the scenes."

She paused for a second, looking away, something rare even for her.

"I want you to come back to Beacon Hills."

I picked up more fries. "Not happening."

Her eyes narrowed. "Braeden, I'm serious."

"Marin, so am I." I said picking up more fries. "There's nothing there but chaos and blood."

"Says the mercenary."

"Exactly! Beacon Hills wasn't a clean job any of the time I was there and the time before last I almost got killed twice."

"And then started working for the man who gave you those scars you're not sensitive about."

The deal was complicated, one I wouldn't have accepted if the price hadn't been so high. Deucalion had stepped out of the woods just as I'd reached the edge of the city, briefcase in hand. His glasses were gone and his eyes were healed and after I left hooked him, he told me all the cash in the case was mine. I only had to do one thing.

"Save Derek Hale."

I ate the fries without missing a beat. "Money talks a lot louder than a grudge."

"I didn't peg you for a sellout."

"You never named a high enough price."

"Look," Morrell leaned forward. "I know you think the lifestyle you're leading is something that's going to take you far-"

"You are _not_ giving me the life coach speech."

"But what happens when it's over, Braeden? What then? What happens when there's too many men with too many weapons and you have too many injuries? Who's coming for you? Who's defending you?"

"What I do is a solo thing. I knew that going in."

"But it doesn't have to be. You want adventure and growth, that's something you can get from Beacon Hills and the help is needed. No matter what you think about it, no matter how you feel, you're a Druid. It's in your blood little cousin, you can't spend that after a job."

The term cousin was used loosely in Emissary community. Since there weren't as many the bloodlines overlapped in one way or another, but managed to keep their own rights and respects. Morrell's line was pretty close to my line.

I shook my head. "I'm not going back."

"What's it going to cost?" Morrell asked.

"You're not getting it." I said. "The money isn't the issue."

"Then what is?"

"The collateral damage."

"Beg pardon?"

I sighed. "You want to what I've learned about Beacon Hills? I've learned that unless the drama and the action and supernatural elements are focused solely on you, you die. You're caught in the crossfire, you're someone's lesson, you're an accident, you're an innocent. I've learned that even though there's a human with barely enough athletic skill to dodge a ball, because he's best friends with the True Alpha, he comes out unscathed."

"That's not true."

"It's not?" I asked. "Tell me something. Were Allison Argent and Scott McCall dating when she was killed?"

Morrell shook her head. "No."

"And look where she is. When she's everything to him, she's alive and kicking. The second she starts to become a secondary part of his life, bam!" I snapped my fingers. "She's dead. Things like that work out for them. Rescuing Derek wasn't hard. Not nearly worth the money I was paid to do it. What you're asking is to be in a place that's almost killed me for being an outsider."

"That's a crock." Morrell said. "And you know it."

"Call it whatever you have to, but I'm not going back."

Her eyes narrowed for a second as she leaned back, but then it settled into that smirk again. She folded her arms as she stared at me, looking at me with her own assessing stare. She was one of the few people who could pull it off, actually assessing me. Most couldn't read me at all.

"You've already felt it haven't you?" She said with a tilt of her head.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, actually, you do." She replied. "I send you after Isaac Lahey, but you have visions of someone else. Just as you're about to leave town you take a job you don't need from a man who tried to kill you, just to come back. Even this time it wasn't difficult to get you to come to a place you claim you won't set foot in. You've felt the pull. You've felt your alpha."

I laughed. "Is that what you think?"

"It's what I know."

"So you're suggesting that my almost being killed here, my visions about a werewolf ascending, and my collecting of funds somehow means that Scott McCall is my alpha? That's a reach even for you."

"I'm not saying he's your alpha one way or the other. Even though he seems like a likely candidate, he's not the only one out there. But your Alpha is in Beacon Hills and I happen to find it funny that you suddenly can't get out of here fast enough around the same time Scott's irises change color."

I took another nonchalant bite of my burger.

"You have the innate need to help the wolves." She went on. "You rescued both Hales and helped them get back Talia Hale's claws. You can pretend that's not what's going on and you can ignore what I'm saying, but it doesn't stop you from knowing I'm right."

"I know you're trying for something that, outside of a couple of coincidences and a very colorful imagination, isn't fact. The Hales needed something. I was there and I did it. I got paid to save Derek, Peter just happened to be there. And you're missing the most important aspect of Scott's pack. Stiles Stilinski."

"What does he have to do with it?"

"He's advising Scott, has been for awhile. Aiding, protecting, serving. How do we know he's not his Emissary."

"That would require him to be a Druid."

"How do you know he isn't?"

"Because a Druid, no matter how unrealized, could never be possessed by a Nogitsune." Morrell said.

I shook my head.

"Maybe this can point you in the right direction."

She reached into her purse and pulled out a manila folder, the kind I saw always when it came to new jobs. She slid it across the table to me and I stopped it with the pads of my fingers. I opened it before I realized what I was doing, another habit, and my eyes roamed over the file twice before I answered the question.

"Who's the Benefactor?"

"Valid question." Morrell said. "And one we don't know the answer to."

From what I was reading, it was one of those underworld, black market, type of deals that dealt in the capture of the supernatural. The only problem was that anytime someone got close to it, they either disappeared or barely missed him. There was no face, no description, nothing other than the title of the Benefactor.

I was about to slide the file back, but she slid another.

This time it was a photograph of a woman, early thirties, in a black leather jacket and a shot gun in her hand. My kind of girl. She was walking down the street, at night, and there was destruction around her from what I could tell. She was staring at the camera out of the corner of her eye with a hard smile on her face.

"Who is she?"

"Another problem." Morrell said. "One that I need you to solve."

I looked back at the picture. "She looks pretty dangerous."

"Nothing you can't handle." She replied.

"And let me guess, both of these problems are heading to Beacon Hills."

"That they are."

I looked at the files and weighed my options. I could stick to what I said and leave, leaving everyone in Beacon Hills to their own problems. It wasn't like they hadn't figured it out before, it wasn't like they wouldn't again. The only responsibility I had was to myself and that was how I liked it.

Or.

I could actually help out someone close to me, someone who probably wouldn't have gone through the trouble that she had to get me here and plead her case. Morrell did a lot of things, but asking for assistance wasn't one of them. If she could handle it, pay it, or get rid of it then she would. The fact that wanted me here meant something.

Shit. "Fine."

She smiled. "So you're coming?"

"Not for free." I told her. "I don't like anyone that much."

"Name your price." She blinked.

"Twenty k." I said.

Morrell nodded. "I thought you'd go higher."

"I'm tempted." I replied, going back to my food. "I need a place to stay."

"Already took of that."

My eyes narrowed. "You played me."

"I did no such thing. If you stuck with your decision then I would've had a nice one bedroom apartment downtown."

I stared at her for a long time before I spoke. "How nice?"

Two men stepped inside the restaurant.

Normally it wouldn't have been a big deal, public place and all, but I'd seen them outside staring at cars. More importantly, I'd seen them both spot Morrell's car and call someone. I put down my fries and kept my eyes solely on them. The taller one was about six feet even with a close cut and a tattoo on his neck. The shorter one was about five ten with shaggier hair and beady eyes. The both of them stuck out, too rugged for this crowd.

The short one pulled out a gun.

"Everybody stays calm and we all walk out of here like nothing happened." He half shouted.

"The money's in the register," The woman behind the counter told him. "No need to be pointing a gun and scaring all these people."

"We'll take your money," he said. "But it's not what we're looking for."

"No what we're looking for is an _Emissary_!" The taller one screamed the last word. "One we know has ties to the True Alpha."

No one moved.

"And if she doesn't come out," the short one said. "Then we're do more than point it."

Morrell slid out before I could stop her.

I slid to the edge of the booth, but didn't leave it. My hand went to the handle of the blade I kept in the belt loop of my jeans. If I could help it, no one was getting hurt tonight except these assholes. Regardless of that, Morrell wasn't leaving with them. I grabbed the cutting knife my food had come with and kept my eyes fixed on the one with the gun.

"You found me." Morrell said. "I don't suppose this has anything to do with Deucalion?"

"Bigger." The short one said.

"Well that's interesting. And who may I ask is going through this much trouble."

"Come with us and find out."

"Tell me and I'll come with you."

"You don't have a choice."

"There's always a choice." Morrell replied.

He turned the gun on her. "Get over here now."

I moved.

"Morrell down!" I shouted.

When she ducked, the cutting knife flew from my hand and sliced the guy's wrist. He shouted as he dropped the gun and his partner moved forward. I got a running start, launched myself off the edge of the table and punched my fist down on the side of his face. He swung high and I went low, leaning my torso forward quickly and bring my foot over my head to kick him in the face. He shoved me backwards and left hooked me, sending me crashing into a table. I pushed away from the table as he brought his fist down on it, and snap kicked him in the side. I grabbed a plate off the counter and swung it across his face, then broke it over his head.

The other guy tried to run for Morrell.

I grabbed him by the back of his jacket and yanked hard, pulling him back towards me and sending the both of us stumbling backwards to the floor. I kicked out, catching him in the nose, and rolled on my side as the taller guy tried to stomp me. He grabbed me by my hair, nails scratching my scalp and hoisted me off the ground. I pulled out my knife and stabbed.

With a grunt he threw me behind the counter and I landed with a hard thud onto the floor. I sprung from my back onto my feet as he hopped over the counter and stalked towards me.

"Little hellion aren't you." He licked his lips. "I like em feisty."

I held the knife out in front of me. "You'll love me then."

He charged.

I spun on my heel and roundhouse kicked him across the face, using the momentum to slice downward with my knife. The sleeve of his jacket split open along with his skin, earning me a glare. He punched and I hoped backwards, grabbing his arm and swiping again with the knife. His hand wrapped around my wrist and he yanked forward, sending me flying towards him.

His head smashed into mine like a brick wall.

When I stumbled backwards, he kicked me into the wall and backhanded me. The spots in my vision hadn't cleared, but I tried to keep moving. I swung out with my fist, but he avoided it and grabbed me. I brought my knee up into his side, but it didn't faze him the way it should've. He pushed me forwards and rammed his elbow into my back, sending me back to the floor. i could taste blood on my lips as I rolled on my side, pushing backwards against the floor with my feet. I may have been fast, be he operated in heavy blows.

Note to self when I was out of this. Get faster.

"Big talk gets you know where baby." He said as he grabbed my ankle and yanked me across the floor to him. "

A fist collided with his face.

The figure, the _man_, leapt over the counter and used both feet to slam the taller guy into the wall. I watched him move like lightning, grabbing the man's face and ramming into the wall twice before pulling him backwards and upper cutting him. I got to my feet and blinked hard, clearing the spots as best I could. When I did, the guy looked over his shoulder.

"Derek?"

His eyes met mine. "Help Morrell."

I swung myself over the counter and ran around it, only to find the guy with a gun pointed at Morrell's head.

"Let her go," I warned. "Before it gets ugly."

"It can't get any uglier than your friend's brains all over the floor."

"I thought your boss wanted her."

"If it's her life or mine, I win every time." He said. "Drop the knife."

I let it fall to the floor beside my boot and raised my hands.

"Kick it over."

With the side of my foot I kicked the knife over right beside Morrell's. When I looked up and caught her gaze, I gave her a small wink. She raised her eyebrows.

"You never did tell us your name." I said as I cocked my head. "All this and I don't even know who's ass we're kicking."

"Listen you little bitch," he said as he glared. "If you think for one goddamn second you're going to-"

Three things happened.

The taller guy, the one Derek had taken over for, went flying through the air and through the window behind me. Morrell lifted her foot and slammed her hell down hard on the shoe of the shorter guy holding her. When his grip loosened, she fell out of it and kicked the knife back over to me. Just as he started to point the gun at her, I grabbed the knife by its tip, spun and released, watching it as it flipped through the air.

And plant itself in his chest.

When he fell, Morrell kicked the gun out of his hands and pressed herself against the wall. A hand reached into my line of vision, and I took it, letting Derek help me off the floor and to my feet. When I looked at him he nodded.

"Are you alright?"

I stared at him for a second before I answered. He looked a lot like he had the last time I saw him, face full of stubble and jaw set. His hazelish eyes looking me over, seeing if I was injured anywhere else. His hair was darker than my own and the deep green v-neck he wore was getting it's boundaries pushed with his muscles. He was still as sexy as ever.

I gave him a smile. "Getting there."

His half smile was perfect.

Morrell came up. "Mr. Hale, nice to see you again."

He nodded.

"How did you know we were in trouble?" I asked.

He was about to open his mouth and say something when a plate hit the floor. The both of us turned, fighting stances ready, eyes darting all over the restaurant. The people inside were either under tables or on the floor, but they were all looking at us.

"Maybe we should head back to Beacon Hills first." Morrell said. "You can explain everything there."

She grabbed her purse and opened it, putting a twenty on the counter in front of Davis, telling him to keep the change. Derek and I walked out behind her, stepping into the cool night.

**A/N: So yeah the endings always piss me off, but YAAAAAY my first Braeden fic! I'm so excited and I hope you guys will be too. Let me know if you like it. **

**Read, Review, Be AWESOME.**


	2. One Who Sees All

**A/N: Sorry this took me so long. A lot of people on tumblr suggested that I wait until the season started. Even though what I have going on kind of has the same elements, I still plan on making this my own take on Teen Wolf, Braeden, and Derek. I'm going to try to remain as true to the characters as possible and I hope you guys like what I do. **

**Let's go.**

**Chapter Two: One Who Sees All**

I nudged the kickstand down with my foot and parked my bike along the curb, taking my helmet off and shaking my hair out. There was something different about Beacon Hills now, a ringing in the air that seemed to resonate through my senses. My eyes flicked around, noticing my surroundings. The shadows were darker here, the corners more ominous. Was I afraid? No. I'd been in worst places with worse circumstances, but I was slightly on edge. Give me something I could shoot or stab and I was your girl all day.

Put me in an environment designed to kill me? Things could get chaotic.

Derek parked his Silver FJ Cruiser against the curb in front of my bike and killed the engine just as Morrell pulled up beside me. She was on the phone, I could see her through the window, and the look on her face was annoyed. I waited until she was done before I said anything.

She rolled down her window. "I have to go."

I figured. "What's up?"

"Apparently I have to take a trip," she said. "it's a part of the Council's probation."

She'd gotten in more trouble than I thought.

"Is there anything I can do?" I asked.

Morrell shook her head and reached over next to her. After a few seconds she produced a white envelop and passed it to me out of the window. It was heavy, very, and when I looked inside and ran my thumb over the bills, I counted fifty thousand in cash.

I didn't remember her stopping at a bank. "You came prepared."

"Ever the mercenary, you only saw the money." She shook her head. "The key to your apartment and your address are in there. There's something else, too. Open it when you're alone."

"Sounds like fun." I put the envelope in the inner pocket of my jacket. "You'll be okay, right?"

"I'll be fine," she gave me knowing smile. "Can you stay out of trouble?"

"Never."

"Call me if you have questions."

I nodded. "Have fun."

She rolled her eyes and drove off.

When I turned, Derek was waiting patiently next to the entrance of his building. As I walked towards him, I noticed that while his eyes were open, he definitely wasn't looking at anything. His jaw kept clenching, his shoulders were tense, and the aloofness he tried to give off may have fooled someone else, but I knew better.

They man had issues.

He blinked himself back to reality when I stood in front of him. "Everything okay?"

"I don't know, is it?" I asked. "You seem pretty out of it."

He shook his head. "I'm fine. Can we talk inside?"

"In a second," I said. "Morrell didn't get to ask, so I will. How did you know where we were?"

"I went by her place to talk to her, but I'd just missed her. When I went outside to catch her, I saw two men following her. Figured it couldn't be good."

"Never pictured you for a savior."

"Most don't."

The conviction in his words said a lot.

I moved on. "Why were you looking for Morrell?"

He gave me a half grin. "That can be answered inside."

"I don't make moves without information," I shrugged.

"And I don't discuss information outside for the world to hear."

I looked around. "We're the only people out here."

"You're not that naïve."

And he was right, I wasn't that naïve. Just because I couldn't see anyone didn't mean someone wasn't on a rooftop. As a matter of fact, I was well aware of what may be out here, I was just stalling to see how much I could get out of him without having to step foot inside of his flat. Most people would've followed him as soon as he asked, but you have to be smarter. People, I've learned, will tell you almost everything if you don't budge. Give an inch, get a foot, take a mile.

It was clear that Derek was saying all he was going to say out hear however.

I raised my eyebrows and turned on my heel, heading back towards my bike. On the side, strapped just below my seat was my pump action, sawed off, shotgun. I never left home without it. The only reason those assholes got the drop on us the way they did was because I'd tried to be a good girl and not scare the customers inside. I wouldn't let it happen again.

"Scared of something?" Derek asked as I walked over to him.

"No," I smirked, "Ready for anything."

Inside looked like the typical entrance to an apartment building, although this one seemed to be modeled more after industrial design. I followed him to the elevator, gun ready at my side, and entered it with him when the doors opened. He pressed the button for the top floor and folded his arms as the doors closed.

Standing next to Derek now, I could see things that maybe I hadn't appreciated from out last couple of meetings. He was definitely toned and muscled in his arms and shoulders with just the right amount of beefy in his chest. He stood with his back straight, but not uptight, just how he was. His hair managed to be a perfect chaos, easily as black tie as it was casual. His jeans fit him great in all the right places, snug on the waist, loose around the legs. I wouldn't discuss the perfection of his a-

The elevator doors opened and he stepped out, walking straight towards a big metal door. I watched as his hands moved quickly, doing things I may or may not have been permitted to see, before he grabbed the huge handle on the door and pulled hard to the right.

The loft was one of those industrial numbers with huge windows and open space. I looked around, taking mental pictures of everything and keeping track of where everything was. To my far right was a king sized bed with messy sheets, a nightstand with a stereo system on it, and a wall of clothes hung up neatly on a metal beam stretching almost the length of the wall. The furniture was scattered, but it was tasteful. Black leather couches faced the wooden table strewn with papers in front of the window. It fit the feel of the place, open and spacious, but still bachelor enough to get away with it. To my left was the kitchen, all stainless steel appliances, and a door I was pretty sure led to a bathroom.

And Peter Hale.

Every time I saw him, I marveled at the fact that he was alive. Normally I wouldn't use the word, but it was rare I saw a dead man walking. I couldn't count how many times his name had popped up next to a price in my email, or how many times I'd been tempted on the offer. The man had pissed off so many people in the supernatural community, people _and things_, it was almost like seeing a celebrity. The fact that every time I saw him and he managed to look even more unscathed bothered the killer in me.

He narrowed his eyes at me and opened his mouth to speak, but then turned to Derek.

"You didn't."

Derek waited for me to step inside before he closed the huge door behind me. Personally I'd have rather kept it open and with my back to it, but I let it go. Besides, neither one of them could kill me. I had a gun full of silver shotgun shells, a silver blade, and a pocket full of mountain ash.

And that was just in case I couldn't get to my bike.

"Come in," Derek said as he moved into the loft.

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and sighed hard. "You know just when I think we've reached an understanding, you go a-and you hurt me like this Derek. Why?"

I walked down the steps, smiling. "Am I here to kill him? You can tell me if I am."

"You see this is why we don't do mercenaries! Right there! She's already threatening me."

"Oh no if I'm here to kill you, you'll die. That's a promise."

"It sounds like you want another set of scars." Peter tilted his head.

I aimed the shotgun low. "Sounds like you won't miss your balls."

Peter looked at Derek. "You're seriously not going to say anything?"

He shook his head slightly and grinned. "I kind of want to see where it goes."

Peter shook his head and looked me over. "Even if we did do mercenaries, which we don't, you couldn't have picked someone else? Someone more reliable and less for the highest bidder?"

"Maybe you should stop investing in v-necks and pick up a dictionary. It's what we do."

"And you don't see the problem with this?" Peter shook his head and threw up a hand. "Derek I worry about your judgment."

"I'm not interested in her because she's a mercenary." Derek said going over to the table in front of the window.

That was news to me.

But then the pieces started to come together like a puzzle, forming themselves out of reaches and assumptions. If Derek was interested in me period, then he wanted something from me. If he wanted something from me, he'd needed to know how to get in touch with me. If he wanted to know how to get in touch with me, he'd need to know the last person who had.

"That's why you went to see Morrell," I said, "You wanted to get in contact with me."

"I want to hire you."

"I don't." Peter said. "My nephews delusional."

Derek ignored him and walked to his bed, reaching under and pulling something from under it. It was a black box, an expensive one that he brought over to the table and sat down. I walked, never taking my eyes off Peter, over to the table and stood across from Derek. A few seconds passed before he did anything, and the he clicked the latches of the box down and lifted the top.

Nothing was in it.

I looked at him. "If this is a magic trick, you did it right."

He shook his head. "No tricks. The container in the mountain ash you helped us get that time, do you remember it?"

"Right after I saved you and should've left Peter for dead." I nodded.

"That's the one. I never told you what was in it, did I?"

No, but it wasn't like he needed to. My primary concern was getting in, getting them, and getting out. I'd double crossed a very vengeful group of werewolf hunters to do so, ones that probably had it out for me as I did everyone else. There was a price on my head, but it wasn't big enough for anyone to try. I still kept moving just in case someone did.

"My mother was the alpha of our pack, Talia Hale." He said.

"Deaton's Alpha." I said to him. "I remember."

"When a werewolf dies, when an _Alpha_ dies, there's a way to get in touch with it on the other side. In some legends the pack keeps the ashes of the fallen Alpha and ingest them in cases of emergency to seek guidance. Sometimes that's how they keep the dead Alpha in control of the pack."

He was telling me what I already knew, but I let him go on anyway.

"But in more common tradition, an Alpha leaves their claws behind."

I nodded. "Which is what was in that container. Talia's claws."

Derek nodded. "Until about two weeks ago, they were inside this box. They aren't anymore and I need to get them back."

Now we were talking. "Not a problem, do you know who has them?"

"Oh he knows alright." I heard Peter murmur.

Derek glared at him and focused back on me. "Kate Argent."

I'd heard the name but couldn't place the face. "Something to Allison Argent?"

"Her aunt. The one he," Derek pointed at Peter, "Supposedly killed."

"In my defense she both looked and felt pretty dead." Peter held up his hands.

I rolled my eyes. "How did she take them?"

"She came in, shot me, and took them. She would've taken me too if she could've."

"That's one way to do it." I replied. "How did you get away?"

"Flung myself out of the window and off the balcony. Landed in the alley and got to my truck."

A boy after my own heart.

I looked around. "That's all she took?"

"That's all she needed from us." Derek answered.

"What do you mean from you?"

"And that," Peter said loudly, "Is all you need to know. Everything else is taken care of. Find the claws, we'll pay you, have a great night."

Derek looked ready to strangle Peter.

"First of all, cash up front." I said. "And secondly, you didn't go through all this trouble just for me to get claws back. You could've done that yourself."

"That's what I said!" Peter folded his arms.

I made eye contact with Derek. "It's not just the claws you want. You want Kate."

His jaw clenched again, just like it had outside, before he pushed some papers out of the way on the table and slid over a book. I stopped it with my fingers, just like I always did, and checked out the page he'd marked. There was Latin, which I skimmed, but I paid more attention to the drawing on the right page. There was a wolf's head on a man's body, surrounded in a circle by smaller drawings.

The first one was a hand with a cut on it, bleeding slightly. The second was more obvious, they were claws that had been removed from the hand of an alpha. The third was a woman, mouth open, hands clawing at her face eyes wide with terror. The fourth was something that looked oblong shaped, but when I brought it closer I could see that it was a heart. A weird looking one, but one all the same.

The last one was blurred.

"Plurium Lupum," I said, "Most Powerful Wolf."

Derek nodded.

"So you're assuming Kate took your mother's claws to do this?"

"When I came back here, she'd taken this same page out of another book. The only reason I remembered it was here is because I'd heard of the consequences."

I wanted to speculate further, but they weren't paying me to speculate. Actually when I looked at the situation, no one here had paid me at all. That snapped me right out of their world and thrust me back into my own.

"So you want me to find her and what?"

"I want you to help me find her."

I smirked. "I'm a solo act, Derek, but I'll bring her to you alive."

"Your job is to get the claws and lead me to Kate."

"My job isn't anything until you've paid me." I leaned on the gun. "And usually when someone hires me they have a good idea where to start."

Derek raised his eyebrows. "Are you saying you're not psychic anymore?"

I kept my face blank. "Who told you that?"

"Well, well," Peter said with a smile, "And the young Hale's plan comes to the light."

Derek's eyes were focused on mine. "You knew where Isaac was going to be, you left the mark on Lydia and Allison. Even me and Peter didn't know we were in Mexico until you showed up. You're _Qui Omnia Videt_, One Who Sees All."

It had been years since I'd heard the term, especially spoken to me. The last time had been around my thirteenth birthday when the reasons for all of the strange images in my head had finally been explained to me. Amongst the druids it was an extremely rare power. Even in my bloodline it was known to skip a generation or two. The fact that I'd gotten it was viewed as a gift.

The fact that I didn't want it made it a curse.

But in some cases, it was a curse worth using. I could anticipate when things were going to happen, I could know when or when not to take a job. I had a handle on it sometimes, but mostly it gave me a headache and was too cryptic to be much good when I needed it. Sometimes I'd spend a whole day just seeing things. Other times I wouldn't see things for weeks or months.

"You didn't want the mercenary. You wanted the Druid."

Derek shrugged slightly. "One came with the other."

And he could go fuck himself. "Not in the business of fortune telling. Hope it works out for you."

"And there it is Derek, what'd I tell you?" Peter shook his head.

Derek ignored Peter again. "We need you."

"We don't need anything." Peter replied. "Other than to find the bitch ourselves and scatter her along the coast."

"Shut up!" Derek growled, eyes glowing blue. He turned back to me. "Look I'll pay you whatever you want."

"Dance cards full." I told him and I was being honest. "Morrell has me here for two reasons already. Can't pick up your cause."

"What's your price?"

"Why does everyone ask me that when I say no?"

"Maybe I'm not the only one who needs to look up the word mercenary." Peter winked.

He was right. I wanted to shoot him for it.

"I'll tell you where the claws are. The rest you're doing on your own." I told Derek.

"I'll take that." He replied.

He slid the box over to me, but I didn't stop it like I had with the others. The energy coming off of it radiated in waves. It was waves beating against a shore the more I reached out to touch it, opening myself up to whatever it had in store. My fingertips touched the inside of the box.

The room disappeared.

Everything came in flashes. The claws were in a jar, a hand was holding the jar. I heard someone chuckle, and the face of a woman appeared. The same woman from the picture Morrell had shown me earlier. The hard smile on her lips and wild look in her eyes. I saw the page of Plurium Lupa laminated on a desk.

The vision shifted.

I saw a business suit and expensive shows, face hidden by shadows. I saw a wooden instrument being held by gloved hands. There was a strange sound, loud and piercing, and two massive figures stepped forward. They were dressed in the bones of animals and had sharp claws on their hands. A snap of the fingers, they rushed forward.

Someone roared loud in the distance.

"Scott." I whispered.

"Scott?" Peter's voice was like water from a bucket. "What the hell does he have to do with anything?"

I was back in the loft like I'd never left, fingers hovering just above the inside of the box. Peter didn't catch it, not immediately, but Derek did. I expected him to say something but he didn't. I blinked away the vision as quickly as I could and pulled myself together.

"Describe Kate to me." I said.

"Psychotic, murderous, bitch." Said Peter.

"Blonde, angular face, athletic figure."

That's who Morrell had shown me.

The good news is, I was earning my money by killing two birds with one stone. Finding Kate and getting rid of her, or letting Derek do it, while getting the claws definitely got her off the list. On the other hand, I still had someone called the Benefactor to worry about by way of Morrell.

I could still hear Scott's roar in my ears. Which meant at some point, I was going to have to talk to him too. If it was one thing my visions taught me, it's that there was always a purpose to them even if I didn't think so. If I heard Scott, then I needed to see him.

But first things first.

"Seventy five thousand." I said, meeting Derek's eyes.

"You'll help?"

"I'll work. Seventy five thousand."

"Done."

"Absolutely n-what?" Peter stormed up. "Derek she's not worth it."

"Finding Kate isn't going to be easy and the resources I'm going to have to pull on are going to cost you. Getting the claws back and delivering her alive are extra. Seventy five."

"I'll pay you."

"You'll both pay me." I looked at Peter. "Won't you?"

Peter looked like he wanted to know what my insides looked like. Which, at this point in the night, he was more than welcome to try. My trigger finger was itching and my patience was waning. If he wanted a fight he'd get one.

"Fine."

"Glad we're in agreement." I said. "I start when you pay me."

Derek produced a pen and scribbled on a sheet of paper. It was his number.

"Text me your information."

I stared at the number for six seconds, all I needed, before walking away from the Hales. The night was starting to get to me and my body was starting to hurt. If I didn't get in hot water soon, I'd be a big ass bruise in the morning. Before I left though, I turned to them.

"I only have one rule, if I'm going to work for you."

"A killer with ethics." Peter said.

I ignored him. "Don't lie to me."

"I don't plan on it." Derek said.

"Even if you do, don't." I said with a cock of my head. "You won't like it when I find out."

In the elevator, I pulled out Morrell's envelop and found my new address. My apartment was in a building on commerce way which, when put into the GPS on my phone, wasn't too far away. Outside I grabbed my helmet, strapped my gun to my back, and tried to let the sound of my bike kill the sound of Scott's roar.

The apartment building I was in made Derek's loft look unkempt and undesirable. The walls were a gleaming white and the furniture in the lobby was plush and expensive looking. There was nobody up at this hour which was a good thing because no one could see the shotgun. Also inside the envelope, Morrell had given me a fake ID with her name on it and social security card, in case I needed anything from the building I guess. I didn't think I would, but at least she'd thought ahead.

From what my key said, my apartment was on the floor just below the penthouse. Back inside the elevator, I pulled out the envelope again, rummaging through it, and came up with a small memory card, one that would fit into the USB drive I plugged into my Mac. This must have been what she wanted me to look at alone. I sighed and put in back inside my pocket, pulling out my phone and programming Derek's number in it.

When it came time for me to type his name, I paused for a second. I thought over the latter part of my night and picked it apart piece by piece. I wasn't exactly sure about the history between Derek and Kate, but I knew it ran deep. I could see it in the way he talked about her. More than that, I knew that if he wanted her alive he wouldn't be able to do what he was planning. One thing about killing someone was that when you wanted someone dead, it wasn't emotional. The best revenge isn't a dish best served cold, it's the one that simmers until it's ready. Derek was boiling almost to the point of bubbling over and he was trying to keep a lid on it. Coming to me was probably the last resort.

A paycheck is a paycheck is a paycheck.

My apartment was D7, towards the end of the hall. I kept my eyes peeled and my ears trained, noticing everything in the hall. The plant by the window I was passing. The amount of doors I was walking by. The elevator was on its way back down and my footsteps barely made a sound in the hall. I grabbed my key with my right hand and opened the door, looking behind me one last time to make sure everything was clear. I stepped inside the apartment and closed the door.

A light clicked on.

The first thing I noticed, surprisingly, was that Morrell had gotten me furniture. A deep brown leather sofa with pintucks rested against the far right wall. Across from it was a flat screen and a coffee table. The area was small and quaint, perfect for watching television when you had shit else to do. There was also a matching chair with a rack full of books we both knew I'd never read. I appreciated the gesture.

The second thing I noticed was that the rest of the living room was less living room and more training studio. While there was another sofa there, the black punching bag that hung from the ceiling kind of drew attention away from it. On the wall behind the punching bag was a wall rack full of weapons. A Bo-Staff, knives, blades of every kind. The ceilings were high enough for me to practice the way I wanted to. There was a stereo in the right corner. The apartment was bare, but filled with everything I needed.

There was a man standing by the lamp.

He was older, early forties, with a tasteful amount of white blossoming in his beard. He was attractive, well built, with a no nonsense look in his eyes. He wasn't armed, not from what I could tell, but I knew just from how he was standing that he could fight if he needed to. His shoulders were loose but everything else was waiting.

And my shotgun was aimed.

"You should start talking." I said.

"I don't mean any harm."

"Breaking into my apartment doesn't exactly scream no harm."

"Me verbalizing it should." He replied.

"I'm not lowering the gun," I warned. "Who sent you?"

"No one."

I pumped it. "I'm not asking again."

"Good, because I'd hate to give you the same answer twice." He answered. "You want to know who I am, try checking the directory. Technically, we're neighbors."

"Your wallet works too." I said. "Toss it."

He reached behind him slowly, lifting the expensive leather fold from his back pocket. He tossed it through the air and I caught it, shotgun never wavering. I flipped it open until the word California caught my eye. I eased the ID out with my thumb and let the wallet fall to the floor.

My eyes narrowed. "You're-"

"Chris Argent," He said. "And if you're here for the reason I think you are, Braeden, then we need to talk."

I lowered the shotgun slowly, taking my finger off the trigger and disarming it. I held it out to my side, ready if things went left. A part of me felt like this night would never end, but if all these people were looking for Kate then who was I to refuse a paycheck.

She was making me rich and she didn't even know it.

"I'm listening." I said.

**A/N: It's a busy world when everyone wants the same thing, but I hope I captured the world of a mercenary pretty well lol. The main thing I wanted to do was to set up Braeden coming back to Beacon Hills and having an objective there. The villains for the most part are still the same, but the motives will not be. I know it's a slow burn, but work with me. **

**One of the things I grappled with in writing this chapter was just how many ways someone could want the same person. But logically when I looked back at the first chapter, Morrell told Braeden that Kate was coming back and that she was a problem that needed to be taken care of. Derek wants to find her for obvious reasons if you watch the show, and where I think Teen Wolf really dropped the ball is not making Chris an immediate factor in all of this. So that's what I'm doing.**

**My favorite girl is being pulled in a lot of directions.**

**But what is loyalty to others when you're a mercenary? Where does Braeden's loyalty lie? It's one of the elements I want to explore with her in this story, the effects of being pulled everywhere while trying to fulfill commitments she's made. **

**I really hope that came across and not just overly repetitive like it felt.**

**Another thing, Braeden still has her psychic abilities in this story and they will be used. I hate how they haven't been mentioned yet, but maybe there isn't a reason for them to be. However, in this story, she'll be psychic and she'll struggle with it. **

**I really hope this chapter didn't scare you off, I really hope I got Peter's sassiness down. **

**Let me know please. Like don't just tell me to update, let me know what you like, what I could do…shit like that.**

**Scott and the gang next chapter. See you then.**

**Also if you haven't done it yet, follow me on tumblr. Same screen name as on here and insert dots accordingly. You'll find out my update schedule, when I'm working on writing, and all that. Plus if you have anything to say to me, there's the place to do it.**

**Read and Review!**


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